


Reddish lines

by mysV



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 5 Things, Chalacta, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Space!Henna, henna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:13:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24727291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysV/pseuds/mysV
Summary: Depa Billaba is fond to Chalactan traditions, at the beginning, her sister was there to share them with her, but now, she have to share it with someone else.Or, the five people Depa shared Henna tradition with.
Relationships: Depa Billaba & CC-10/994 | Grey, Depa Billaba & Caleb Dume, Depa Billaba & Mace Windu, Depa Billaba & Sar Labooda
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	1. Sar Labooda

**Author's Note:**

> I'm done with Angst, time to write Fluff.
> 
> I like henna tattoo very much, and is my headcanon that Chalacta have some Middle Eastern-Indian vibes, so Space!Henna could be one of its traditions. I'm from South America, I'm not very familiarized with Henna or Mehndi, even though I like it, sorry for any possible innacurace.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Depa and Labooda, at the very beginning, were just two Chalactan little girls with with very few memories of ther native home.

Depa was sitting on the floor, alongside her bed in the Crèche Room, her legs crossed and her left arm outstretched, her hand in the hands of her sister. Labooda pressed carefully the thin applicator bottle down on her little sister skin, drawing a trail of cool, reddish ink.

The lines looked like flowers, one connecting with the other, and as Labooda strokes down, Depa laughs softly. She was ticklish and Labooda knew it. Both sister lift their heads to look at each other, sharing a smile.

"It won't be long now." Labooda murmured, now drawing in Depa’s inner arm, more flowers and lines added to the work. Depa sits more relaxed, shifting so her back was against the bed, long brown braids resting over her skinny, tanned, shoulders.

The youngling was attentive of her older sister doings, seeing and learing till she finished with the draw. It was beautiful, dark red and so delicate, lines and flowers going from her hand to her upper arm. Labooda smiled, content with her art, she hold Depa’s right hand, and squished it gently.

"Let's just wait for it to dry." 

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	2. Mace Windu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She, perhaps, was actually meditating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mace is one of the best Space!Dads, and he really cares for his kids hobbies and traditions.

Mace stayed as quit as possible, almost like he was meditating.

He was not, obviously, and either was his Padawan.

More than just one Master or Knight would be laughing at him if they can see his situation.

His hand was in the ones of his Padawan. The young teenager was pretty concentered on it, her brown eyes very focused and her expression serious. She, perhaps, was actually meditating. The reddish ink contrast against his skin, Depa was drawing something that resemble the Jedi Order symbol.

Probably the draw was just that, the Jedi Order ancient symbol, taking form on the back of his hand. Anyway, she had only started a few minutes ago. While she was on it, Mace took the chance to look at his Padawan.

She was growing up quickly, her braids were longer, and her robes were dirty for the training, the jewel in her brow she has spotted since she was a child seemed to glow, while the sun set over Coruscant skyline.

Her once soft hands were starting to feel rough; she was really working on her katas and fighting forms. “It’s done Master!” Depa announces cheerfully, letting Mace’s hand go and sitting backwards, smiling wide at her Master.

Mace looked down at his hand and there it was, the symbol the Order, carefully drawn in red ink on his hand, an artistic work done by his Padawan.

“Well done Depa, glad to see that at least one of us can draw correctly” He said, expressing both amusement and pride at the same time. “Thank you Master, is nice to know you value my efforts” Depa was in the same good mood that him, looking proudly at the design.

As the sunset fades away, and night comes over this side of Coruscant, Mace thought his Padawan hard work deserved a dinner at Dex's.

Depa was more than amused when her Master suggested it, and even though she don’t like the banthasteak burger her Master was so fond to, she was not going to lose the chance of showing off to the world the draw she has done in her Master hand. 

She was also very happy to notice that it lasted more than just a couple days.

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	3. Caleb Dume

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, no one in the Temple could say it do not suit you” His Master sounded more than content with her job. And he couldn’t say that she wasn’t right, a lot of people back in the Temple liked to compare him to a tooka; little, fussy and full of determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very weak for Master & Padawan relationships, and of course that Depa and her little boy Caleb are my favorite of them all. So here I am, writing fluff and bonding time for them. 
> 
> English isn't my first lenguage, but writing fanfics is a really good way to practice it, anyway, I'm very sorry for any grammatical mistake or misspelling.

In the rare down time they have between battles, Celeb enjoyed explore around, in whichever city, village or distant landscape they were. Depa usually went with him, because she didn’t feel comfortable letting her Padawan go alone in the middle of warzone.

Sue her if she was wrong, but she can't risk to lost him, not after everything else she had already lost. 

Now, sitting close to their camp, but far away enough to hear the river that was near them, the boy tried to avoid his Master gaze, but Depa's eyes stayed on him. Caleb could feel the weight of his Master gaze travel from his shoulder to his hand. Depa didn’t spoke, and her hold on his shoulder tightened. He also could feel the cold ink on his skin, and he only shifted when his Master made him move.

To be honest, Caleb hoped that, whatever Master Depa could be drawing on his skin, it would be cool. It has been him the one who asked her to do it, anyway, after weeks of seeing the red designs his Master usually wear on her own hands.

“Ready” His Master said, her voice as steady as always, but it did sound a little amused.

“You can see it now” The young Padawan moves his head, so he can see what his Master had drew for him. His eyes go wide, and his Master can’t hold a little chuckle.

From his hand and up to his shoulder, there were a large red design, most of it seem to be very traditional. But in the middle, surrouended by all the others lines, there was a draw of a little tooka, which were connected to a star.

It was not what he was exactly expecting.

“Well, no one in the Temple could say it do not suit you” His Master sounded more than content with her job. And he couldn’t say that she wasn’t right, a lot of people back in the Temple liked to compare him to a tooka; little, fussy and full of determination.

Even his Master said it.

Actually, his Master still say it.

Caleb wants to protest, wants to tell his Master that he was not a tooka. No matter how cute his eyes were or how adorable he was as a whole. But she looked happy, her own hands were a bit red from the ink, and her dark eyes were very warm.

“Stay still till it get dry” He would never question his Master in such a serious matter, but he moves anyway, reaching for her arm to hold her hand. The red ink in her hand stain his.

Master Depa's hand was a bit dry, and he could feel the calluses left by the lightsaber, but Caleb never want to let her go.

“So, what do you think about it, Padawan mine?” She asks, softly shaking their hands, looking at him expectantly.

“I like it” Caleb was saying nothing but the true, looking at the tooka now, it didn’t look that bad

“Thank you very much” He says, Master Depa give him a little smile, and then let him rest his head on her shoulder.

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading!
> 
> Feel free to leave Kudos :)


	4. CC-10/994 | Grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do one that match yours” He had said, when she asked him if there was a specific design he have in mind. 
> 
> The statement had deeply surprised her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these two, but i'm always reluctant to catalogue them as a pairing, so Grey and Depa always fall in the "yes, almost, but no, no yet" phase, and of course it is the same in this fic. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this update!

Depa didn’t really like what she was doing on Grey’s back and shoulder.

“ _Do one that match yours_ ” He had said, when she asked him if he had a specific design in mind.

The statement had deeply surprised her.

There were nothing wrong with her own ability to draw with henna, Grey was steady and he didn't move, making her work easier.

Still she didn’t like it.

But she already was in the empty, little room she liked to use when she have to prepare henna, with the Commander sitting in front of her. The ship wasn't her home, wasn't the Temple, but it didn't mean she was comfortable staining her quarters floor with the reddish paste.

Still, she didn't feel like it was right. Depa wasn’t sure it was because she has never shared this with anyone who wasn’t really close to her, or if it was because she didn’t feel comfortable drawing the delicate and traditional reddish lines on the back and right shoulder of the Commander.

Actually, she had tattooed very few people. Her sister, the one who taught her how to do so, was long gone. Mace and Caleb, both were very familiar to her, a Master and Padawan she could easy deal with.

Grey wasn’t none of that.

He was her first in command, the one who had came back to her when everything else seemed lost and damaged. He was also a good trooper and a competent leader. Usually, she thought about him as her friend, as a confident who understand the atrocities of war better than anyone.

But maybe he won’t like the draw, it didn’t seem to match his other tattoos, it didn’t seem to match him at all.

She didn't want to disappoint him.

It didn’t really matter, though, Depa was a composed, calm person, her hands never shake and her gaze never leave her work. If Grey didn’t like it, they'll deal with it later. Fortunately, they both were good at talking things out and not let them be a heavy, but silent, problem.

“When it is done, stay still for a while, let it dry properly. Otherwise, it will get damaged” Depa explained to him as she drew another long line on his shoulder.

“Yessir” Grey replied, half serious and half mocking her. If Depa, the collected and experienced Jedi, rolled her eyes at him, remain a mistery.

Looking at her work, she could tell the design was fine, it was intricate but subtle, similar to the ones she wore on her own arms.

* * *

When enough time passed, it was Grey who wiped the dried henna off his own skin with a wet towel, pressing lightly to make sure it would not smudge. Depa has left the room, taking the few implements she had used with her.

When he was alone, Grey ran a finger over the delicate lines tattooed on his shoulder. He really liked how they looked. The draw was fine, soft, contrasted with his other tattoos. By far, he has never seen a brother with the same kind of body art. 

It was really special, then.

The General had said he couldn't put his shirt back on until the henna dried on his skin.

Grey clutched his upper blacks to his chest, maybe he could ask a brother, one with fine artistic skills, to tattoo the design General Billaba was done, permanently, this time.

Henna, red and dark, seem to glow against his brown skin. 

" _Stay still_." The General has said, and so he did.

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! :D
> 
> Also, I'm very sorry if you see some grammatical mistakes or misspellings, English isn't my native language, but I'm doing my best to get better at it.


	5. CT-5858 | Smokey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nevertheless, General Billaba, she was not actually scary or hurtfully distant. She was a bit intimidating, a bit mysterious and a bit uncanny, but as far as he knew, all the Jedi shared those similarities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the last chapter of this little fic, I actually enjoyed a lot while writing it, and has become one of my favorites works. 
> 
> Also, Smokey is the "Original Clone Trooper Character" I tagged, this is the first time I work with an OC so I hope you guys like it too. As always, I'm very sorry for any misspelling or grammar mistake, English isn't my first language but I'm getting better at it.

Smokey knew he was far too young to be out of Kamino, far too young to be in the battlefield, his training was barely complete and he was shinier than the average shiny.

Fierfek, he was only nine years old.

_Nine years old._

That is maybe why the rest of the battalion didn’t really have many expectations on him, it didn’t help either that he'd been separated from his batchmates when he was assigned to General Billaba's Battalion.

General Billaba’s Second Battalion, actually.

At first, he was very nervous about meeting her, Jedi which whole battalions were shattered are feared all among the cadets in Kamino. If they, the Jedi, let all of their older brothers perish, then what could them expect from them?

Nevertheless, General Billaba, she was not actually scary or hurtfully distant. She was a bit intimidating, a bit mysterious and a bit uncanny, but as far as he knew, all the Jedi shared those similarities.

General Billaba, she was kind and she obviously cared for them. She also have a Padawan, Commander Dume, Smokey had even talked with him a few times, and he seem to be very friendly. Some of the other guys even call him _vod’ika_ and he sometimes sleeps in the barracks with them, so Commander Dume must be a nice Jedi, or Jedi in training, whatever.

Smokey knew he was lucky, his fate could have been a lot worse in another battalion, under command of a Jedi who wasn’t competent like General Billaba.

Also, she didn’t care about his brother’s tattoos, or hairstyles or armor painting. Mixx have a Mohawk, Big-Mouth have dyed his hair red recently and Commander Grey had his fare amount of tattoos under his blacks.

By fact, Commander Grey have some tattoos he would like to have himself. One of his favorites were the red lines he spotted on his right shoulder and back, and Smokey was bit disappointed when the fine lines disappeared from his skin only a few days after he saw them.

A temporary tattoo, it should be, and if was, then were probably a quick work from a brother.

Smokey was more than surprised when he asked Styles—because he was not going to ask the Commander, he was not—who were the brother with the red ink and artistic skills, Styles told him with a grin that it was General Billaba’s art, not any brother’s.

* * *

Asking his General if she can teach him how to do the tattoos she do, could be easily one of the most embarrassing moments in his short life, and Smokey once initiated the fire alarms of his barracks by accident.

Nor Kaminoans nor Instructors were happy about that little mistake.

The General, she otherwise looked at him with kindly eyes, and even though she was a bit surprised, she was willing to teach him.

In that moment, Smokey decided she was his favorite Jedi ever; there were no other Jedi like General Billaba.

She chuckles softly when he said that out loud to her.

“You think so?” The way she asked it didn’t sound as happy or amused, her hold on his hand loosened. Had he overstepped? He didn’t mean to overstep.

“Uh…I’m sorry Sir, I didn’t mean, it wasn’t my intention” Smokey usually was good with words, but the only people he talks to were his brothers. He didn’t know how to speak properly to a Jedi.

“Do not worry, is a truly honor if you think that about me” She took his hand again, more firmly this time, her eyes were focused and as she draw very thin lines over his finger.

If any brother, back in Kamino, should have told him he would ever be this close to a Jedi he would have stolen his dinner rations, because is not nice to make fun of people that way.

“So, tell me trooper, if you want, which is your favorite color” Smokey could not believe his luck, he had been told that Jedi who ask weird questions like one favorite color usually are the nicest ones.

Best Jedi ever, indeed.

“It’s red, sir” He asked quietly, trying very hard to keep his hand still. Red was in fact his favorite color, have been since he saw it in the armors of the brothers in the battalion.

He had already painted a few things in his own armor, nothing fancy though, Smokey still was too shiny.

“Good, is a nice color, it is very important to me too” Smokey lifted his gaze, seeing his general. Her head was down, her hands still drawing. He only see her brown hair and braids. However, even though he couldn’t see her eyes, he knew she was honest.

Red means a lot to her.

“Look at it, tell me if you like it, so I can keep on it” Those were orders from the General, and he obeys instantly. Smokey moves his hand so he can see it properly, under the dim lights of the ships’ dining hall. 

The artwork looked karking awesome on his fingers. All of his brothers are going to be so jealous.

“Sir, is perfect sir, thank you very much, sir” Smokey speak too fast, return his hand to the General’s too fast, he is thinking so fast about how much he likes his new—and currently only—tattoo.

The General chuckles again, and hold the bowl where the reddish paste is.

“When we are over, I will show you how this is made, isn’t actually difficult” Marshall Commander Cody could have put a medal right on his chest and he wouldn’t have feel this honored.

“Of course sir, I promise I’m going to learn it correctly” This time, when the General smiles, her brown eyes are looking at his.

Smokey can see the glowing jewel on her brow, the lines on the corner of her eyes, can see the thin lines on her face when she smiles.

It takes almost all of him to not squeeze her hand.

Smokey was sure, General Billaba was the best Jedi ever.

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading!!
> 
> Feel free to leave kudos if you want :)


End file.
